


Snooze

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Just a snippet in a rainy car.





	Snooze

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The gentle pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop is a soothing sound, and so long as the Regalia’s enclosed, Prompto doesn’t mind it. They managed to hop in before it really started pouring, so he’s not _too_ wet, and the padded seats and well-placed vents keep him pleasantly warm. It’s a better car than he could ever afford. But he wouldn’t want his own anyway, because the Regalia’s _special_ , and if he’s going to drive, this is the only way to go.

Technically, Ignis is driving. His eyes are dutifully on the road, as always, even when he’s reaching for his Ebony or adjusting his glasses. He keeps quiet, as all of them are—the only other noise besides the rain and engine is the tiny clicking of Prompto’s camera as he scrolls through pictures. He got a good haul before the rain came down. A few in battle, a few on the run, even one of Noctis streaking through the air mid-warp. He looks so _cool_. But he always does. If things ever get back to normal and settle down, Prompto’s going to have a real badass portfolio to kick-start his freelance business. 

In the meantime, life is just one gi-normous road-trip. They’ve been on this particular road for what feels like forever. Prompto asks for the second time since they started, “How much longer?”

“Another hour, give or take,” Ignis estimates, glancing at the chronometer for a fraction of a second. Prompto leans his head back against the seat and groans. His stomach’s just on the cusp of feeling empty, and he knows that in forty-five minutes, it’ll be clawing itself open. 

He tries whining, “Noct, can’t we take a pit stop somewhere?” Because Ignis might be at the wheel, but Noctis is the real leader. The one they all would die for. Except Noctis just leaves Prompto hanging.

So Prompto twists in his seat, looking back to press, “ _Noct_ —”

He cuts off when he realizes why Noctis didn’t answer. Both he and Gladiolus are passed out in the backseat, slumped in a big pile in the middle. Noctis has his cheek cushioned on Gladiolus’ mammoth shoulder, his whole body relaxed into that curve, while Gladiolus is otherwise upright, head just resting against Noctis’ hair. Both of them have their eyes closed, mouths slightly parted, and Gladiolus’ book is lax in his lap. It’s the cutest thing Prompto’s seen since Kenny Crow had that Tonberry keychain offer with its fries. 

It looks pretty comfy, too. Prompto fidgets in his seat, wondering if he’s gotten skinny enough to cram in there with him. Probably not. And that’d probably be ridiculous. He’d wake them up, and they’d laugh their asses off at him. 

He glances at Ignis, but Ignis is driving. Ignis catches a glimpse of the other two in the rear-view mirror, following Prompto’s gaze, and gives Prompto a _look_ that could mean: _Don’t even think about it._

Prompto settles for taking the flash off his camera and snapping a few pics. Ignis doesn’t stop him. Maybe Ignis will want a copy. Prompto’s sure a lot of other people would. But this is one of those special moment ones just for their private portfolio, like the stuff with Umbra or the rare glimpse of Gentiana. 

Ignis offers, “If you want to rest too, I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

But it’s not the same, so Prompto just grunts, “Thanks,” and keeps going through his pictures.


End file.
